


home is where the dog is

by canistakahari



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Puppies, animal death (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 07:56:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3888469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari/pseuds/canistakahari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke gifts a Mabari puppy to Cullen. For reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	home is where the dog is

**Author's Note:**

  * For [psikeval](https://archiveofourown.org/users/psikeval/gifts).



> Written for [psikeval](http://psikeval.tumblr.com/). <3

The puppy is, inexplicably, a gift from Hawke.    
  
“Um,” says Cullen, his hands suddenly full of a squiggly bundle of warm fur. “Champion, I—”   
  
“It’s a girl,” says Hawke, calmly reaching out to adjust Cullen’s stunned grip on the tiny animal. “I have very admirably restrained myself from giving her a name.” 

“I don’t understand,” says Cullen dumbly. The puppy blindly climbs his shirt and he has to pry her very gently from the mane of his collar before she begins suckling on the fur. “If you need someone to watch her, I’m sure I can assign a recruit—” 

“A puppy is a big responsibility,” says Hawke firmly. “You can’t just go passing her off to the nearest lackey. You’re Fereldan, man. What kind of Fereldan expects to be taken seriously without a mabari at their side?”   
  
Realization dawns over Cullen like a sunrise, mirrored by the glowing, self-satisfied grin on Hawke’s stupid, bearded face.    
  
“You can’t be serious,” says Cullen weakly. “I don’t have the time—” The puppy finds Cullen’s hand, then, and he comes to a sputtering, startled halt as she begins to nurse his fingers. “She’s too young,” he adds lamely.   
  
“Found her in the Hinterlands,” says Hawke, uncharacteristically sober. “Trying to nurse a corpse. The rest of the litter was already dead. Get some warm goat’s milk from the kitchens, feed her every two hours. She’ll grow like a weed.” He claps Cullen hard on the back, enough to jar him forward; for a man that can appear and disappear like a shadow, Hawke is excessively tall and far too burly to wield his daggers with the grace that he does.    
  
Cullen’s cheeks flush and he looks down at the wriggly little noodle of a dog in his hands. He had dogs growing up, of course. Hawke’s right; what self-respecting Fereldan family didn’t? “Is this some kind of joke? A punishment?”   
  
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that,” says Hawke mildly.   
  
“Fair enough,” says Cullen, sighing. He holds the puppy up to his face. Her eyes aren’t even open yet. “She’s so small.”   
  
“You’re welcome,” says Hawke, turning to let himself out of Cullen’s office.    
  
Cullen sighs again.    
  
(He tells absolutely no one that he decides to call her Lady.)


End file.
